Real Talk: Even Though I Got Kicked Out Of The Band, I Am Happy For Pup Punk And Wish Them The Best
Ya’ll know me. Ya’ll know what I do for a livin’. Wait…I think? I’m still not exactly sure what I even do, well, besides not get enough pageviews. But the one thing I do know is I am the “Pete Best” of Barstool’s house band, Pup Punk.
Like the first performance at Irving Plaza, I’d be lying if today/tonight wasn’t a difficult pill to swallow. And getting reminded multiple times on social media with the trolls tagging me on multiple posts hammers it down even more. OF COURSE I’d still love to be apart of something this amazing. Career and content parts aside, I played the drums all the way through high school, and was pretty darn decent. Just like Frankie with his Mom and Dad crying after the first show, the thought of having my parents, who used to encourage me and drive me to drum lessons on a weekly basis, see me perform in a meaningful setting once more basically brings me to tears. Plus playing original, live music in front of thousands of people is just…special. I mean, look at this shit:
These guys get to live like a legitimate rockstar for a night. Who wouldn’t want that? Alas, fate had a different tale for ol’ Smitty/ Derek I…and it just so happens it was the exact same plot line from That Thing You Do. Oh well. I just wanted to take the time now to clear all the air if it hasn’t been cleansed enough already. I’ve documented before that I was in a real bad spot when things went south with the band, but just to make sure it’s on the record: I couldn’t be happier for these guys and all their success. They smell terrific. Rone, PFT, Robert, Frankie – Go get ‘em fellas. And if you’re in Boston tonight, grab a last minute ticket before there are no more:
PS – Just go easy on the rockstar life this time postshow, Frankie Fireballs. Jesus Christ. You weigh the same as Zah.